In a world in which contradiction and aggressive
inconsistency appears to be all you need to be a success, Eric Bogosian’s 1980s
play gets its UK premier to help explain how this came to be.
In a recent interview, the writer and performer nailed the
trick in one line: “…people get confused
about what’s real and what isn’t when you have this pundit who’s pushing all
kinds of opinions and jerking us around.” But… and it is indeed a huge "but",
we get the thought-leaders we deserve or, more accurately the thought
reflectors. When given the chance to speak our minds and to use “marvellous
technology” to freely express in a constructive way, we waste it; pre-occupied
with our fears and actively seeking negative reinforcement and comfort-hate.
In the eighties, it was talk radio and now, our thoughts
magnified a thousand times by social media, we fall into the same trap of
allowing those we gift into positions of power, the liberty of telling us what
we think. As it is with President Donald Trump so it was with Barry Champlain,
the shock-jock at the centre of the play and Oliver Stone’s dark-edged film
version. But Barry is smarter and more self-aware than Trump, he knows his
limitations and, in the final analysis, he also has an honesty unavoidably lurking behind his quick wit… but has he the moral courage to take
responsibility for the impact he’s having?
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| Matthew Jure and Andy Secombe |
Director Sean Turner promised that “…the production will be anarchic and raucous – once we put our foot on
the pedal it will not stop…” and it doesn’t from the first rapier thrust of
Matthew Jure’s Barry to the last, there’s no let-up.
Sean and designer Max Dorey have made the most of the Old
Red Lion’s space and the audience are placed in the heart of a radio station
set that has Barry behind Perspex glass with his assistants and station manager
outside. It reinforces Barry’s isolation as well as his connection with the
twilight world of callers through his show Night
Talk. Barry’s long-standing producer Stu (George Turvey) and his
long-suffering love interest Linda (Molly Myfanwy McNerney) filter his calls
and feed him through a variety of callers from twee cat-lovers to
crypto-fascists, harmless cranks to sinister ill-wishers.
To them all Barry issues the same challenge: what is it
exactly you want to say? How are you going to use the time to make a genuine
point?
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| George Turvey |
Barry is rude, confrontational and short-tempered. His
local show is a success and station boss Dan (Andy Secombe) has grabbed him the
opportunity of nationwide exposure… the big stations are listening in and
tonight’s show must go well. Yet Barry isn’t happy with this… he’s not been
consulted and what’s more, whatever is troubling him about the direction of his
show is about to be magnified on across every state.
Barry is conflicted and very uncomfortable with the role he
has created for himself. During one of the monologues from his colleagues
direct to the audience, Dan reveals that Barry’s background as a Vietnam vet
with hippy credentials and a Chicago University PhD is a fabrication and we’re
surprised he allowed this especially given Stu’s recollections of his
uncompromising pranks at their first radio station: locking themselves in
playing Let it Bleed 23 times over
for effect (at least it wasn’t Goats Head Soup…).
These face-to-face break aways are very effective in
themselves and I found myself nodding when Stu asked if we remembered Jethro
Tull…
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| Molly Myfanwy McNerney |
Linda’s is the most revelatory though as she talks about
her difficulty in breaking through Barry’s exo-skeleton of hard talk… even when
asleep he is troubled: he may not have been in ‘Nam but he’s living in
difficulty.
The callers are relentless and Barry knows them all too
well, dismissing quickly those who are just going to say the same old thing.
One caller gives him pause, a young man called Kent (Ceallach Spellman) who
sounds stoned and distressed as he talks about his girlfriend being unconscious:
has she OD’d? The Police call in concerned and Dan makes him hear Kent out even
though Barry is convinced he’s a fraud.
There’s also another caller far more menacing in tone who
challenges Barry more directly… he even sends him a parcel claiming it contains
a bomb. But Barry knows his callers, he knows they’re sadder than him, even
this one?
As the Jack Daniels bottle gets drained and Barry cuts a
line, he gets more strung out rejecting both Linda and Stu’s help. His night is
reaching crisis point when he invites Kent into his recording booth and you
wonder how much longer he can deal with his own self-deceptions in the face of
an audience “mesmerised” by their own fear: they can’t move on, they can only
call in and they just want to him to confirm its alright to go down without a
fight.
There are no easy answers and no clear conclusion as in the
film...
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| Ceallach Spellman |
Matthew Jure gives a performance that leaves everything out
on the track, with Barry’s confliction given exhausted, physical expression
over the course of the two-hour running time. He is almost constantly talking,
baiting his audience and himself as they fail to meet expectations he clearly
can’t reach himself… Perhaps we all need to move on together?
Compelling, challenging and highly entertaining, Talk Radio is very “hot” media indeed
and I guarantee you will “lean forward” as we media types always say. If you’re
not affected by this play, you’ve not really been paying attention and, with
Matthew’s Barry in the room, that’s just not going to happen.
Talk
Radio plays at the Old Red Lion Theatre, 418 St John Street,
London until Saturday 23rd August and if you want to
understand the enduring truths about misdirection, ego and corrupting power
*and* be entertained, you shouldn't miss it!
Ithankyou
Theatre rating: ****
All photographs courtesy of Cameron Harle.
